Ezra stared at the velvet box for a long time.
It was tucked beneath a pile of mismatched socks—mostly his, a few of Talia's she always claimed weren't hers, even though she wore them every other Thursday. He'd kept the ring hidden there for two weeks. Ever since the night he said the words.
"I want to marry you someday."
He hadn't meant for it to slip out like that. Not in the middle of a sleep-deprived Thursday morning while she still smelled like antiseptic and heartbreak. But he hadn't taken it back, either.
Because it was true.
And some truths don't wait for perfect timing.
Still, he hadn't opened the box since. Just checked once every few nights to make sure it was still there. As if the ring might vanish if he didn't keep believing in it.
Talia found his notebook on the kitchen table three days later.
It wasn't intentional. She was clearing their cluttered space for the first time in what felt like weeks—Ezra at the hospital, her on a rare morning off. The sunlight filtered through the blinds, striping the pages with soft gold. She hadn't meant to read it. She knew how Ezra was about his journals.
But her eyes caught a line.
"Talia kissed me today like she was afraid I'd disappear. Maybe that's what love is—holding on even when everything else tells you to let go."
She sat down without meaning to.
Flipped through page after page.
And there they were—little entries like breadcrumbs from his heart:
"She fell asleep during our study session again. I didn't wake her. Just watched the way her mouth curls when she dreams. I think she mumbled something about IV fluids?"
"Her hands shake sometimes after long shifts. I hold them under the table when we eat. I don't think she notices. I hope she doesn't notice."
"The ring came in the mail today. God, what am I doing?"
Her breath caught.
She stopped flipping.
There was no date. No follow-up. Just that one sentence.
The ring came.
She closed the notebook gently.
Didn't say anything.
But that night, she wrapped her arms around him while he brushed his teeth and looked at their reflection in the mirror like she was trying to memorize this version of them.
"I read your notebook," she whispered.
Ezra froze, toothbrush halfway up.
"I didn't mean to," she added quickly. "It was open. I just... saw it."
He rinsed, wiped his mouth, then turned to face her. His eyes weren't angry.
"Did you read the part about the ring?"
She nodded slowly.
"Are you mad?"
She shook her head. "No. Just... surprised."
They stood there for a beat too long.
Then Talia looked up at him. "Do you have it here?"
His breath hitched. "Yes."
"Can I see it?"
Ezra disappeared into the bedroom. She stayed frozen in the bathroom, heart pounding, brain looping through every possible scenario.
He returned with the little navy-blue box.
Didn't open it.
Just handed it to her like it weighed more than it should.
She opened it slowly.
Inside was a delicate gold band, simple and quiet. A small sapphire nestled in the center—blue as the sky the day they'd walked along the lake and first held hands. It was understated. Beautiful. Unmistakably him.
"I love it," she said softly.
Ezra swallowed. "It's not an engagement ring. Not yet. I mean, it could be. But I bought it because I needed to remember what I'm working toward. What we're working toward. You don't have to say anything. I'm not asking. Not yet. Just… letting you know."
Talia stared at the ring, then back at him.
"You're always braver than me," she said.
He smiled weakly. "That's not true."
"Yes, it is. You say things I don't know how to say. You dream when I'm too afraid to hope."
"You're not afraid," he said gently. "You've just been hurt."
That simple truth nearly broke her.
"I don't know if I'm ready for forever," she whispered.
"That's okay," Ezra replied. "I'm not asking for forever today. I'm just asking you to keep choosing this. Choosing us. Day by day."
Talia nodded, blinking fast.
"I can do that."
Ezra stepped closer, slipped the ring box from her fingers and placed it back in the drawer for now.
Not as a goodbye.
But a not yet.
Then he pulled her close, their foreheads pressed together, and said, "I'll wait for you, Talia. Even if it takes forever."
And this time, she didn't flinch.